The Indomitable Spirit of Human Beings

Since I’ve been writing this column, I’ve met a bunch of remarkable people who have let me tell their stories. I’m a better person for having met these folks and my life is richer for having the opportunity to write about them. Not all of the stories have been happy, but for me, they have all been uplifting. What I have witnessed is the indomitable spirit of human beings.

Today’s column exemplifies that spirit and I’m pretty sure that’s why Vicki Glowacz thought it was appropriate to share her story, for which I’m grateful. Thanks also go to the lovely Kathy and daughter Shannon for their editing help

Over the past months, I have become familiar with the storied life of Gregg Glowacz via a Patch column by Judy Davids and more recently Gregg's obituary noting his passing at home in Royal Oak several weeks ago.

Gregg lived life to its fullest, even as tragedy struck that cast him into a situation as harrowing as any of us could possibly imagine.

As reported, Gregg was a lover of life. He was a risk taker and full-speed ahead guy. Blessed with movie star looks, he loved fast cars, motorcycles, water skiing, scuba diving, foreign travel and pheasant hunting. He also taught himself how to work with wood, producing beautiful pieces.

He was a proud Polish kid from St. Florian's in Hamtramck who hustled pool at Lili's, but was smart and ambitious, rising from an entry level hospital job to key administration roles, earning a Bachelor degree at Mercy and a Master's degree from the University of Detroit.

He married Vicki after she set her sights on him over a quarter century ago and they were a hand-in-glove fit, sharing a zest for life. For Greg and Vicki, life was wide-open-throttle.

In 2007, in a heartbeat, it all came crashing down on them. Gregg suffered a brain aneurysm, followed by surgery and two strokes that in matter of days caused him to become a quadriplegic, unable to move below the neck, unable to talk, only able to communicate with a letter board.

Imagine that.

There is no happy ending to this story.  Gregg did make some progress early on, but he didn't get better. What Gregg did do was make the absolute best of a really bad deal and was helped along the way by an immense generosity of spirit from his friends and family led by Vicki. 

Friend Virgil Dirga told me that while Gregg's body was broken, "You could still see the man with impeccable integrity, honesty and courage in his brilliant blue eyes."

I've tried to write how devastating this injury was to Gregg and Vicki, but it always came out as a dramatic understatement. It's hard to fathom what Vicki faced as their fate turned in a matter of hours.

What happened during the five years—from the day of the aneurysm, to Gregg's death this past October—is an explanation of what love really is all about.  There is sickness and there is death, but this was especially arduous and challenging.  In the face of catastrophe, Vicki could only call on an inexhaustible supply of love to keep both her and Gregg's head above water. 

Vicki doesn't sugar coat it.

"Life with Gregg after the aneurysm was a roller coaster, but not a fun ride. It was frightening. It was such an impossible situation. Imagine this happening to the love of your life. Without the help of some incredible people, I don't know what we would have done."

These incredible people included Dale and Linda Jarosz, Val Gokenbach, John Dick, rehab therapists Bonnie and Marty, special caregiver Deanna Tonak, Julie and Eric Freedman, Suzy Billingsley, among many others. Oh, and one small, vocal dog named Bruiser.

After listening to Vicki and members of her and Gregg's support system, I believe I received a nudge in the ribs from Gregg's deceased, but apparently very active elbow. (Let me say that I'm not a big believer in ghosts or spirits. But, while I'm a fairly pragmatic guy, I'm not going to ignore a sharp elbow, figurative or real!)

Here's what I think Gregg asked me to do: write his dearest Vicki a letter from him, telling her what he couldn't say out loud for the last five years of their life together.

My Dearest Vicki, 

I'm not angry anymore.  And you know I was very, very angry when my body disintegrated in a flash. I was furious about losing everything from Harley's to scuba diving.  But what pissed me off more than anything else was how I just wanted to hold you close one more time and whisper in your ear.  I just wanted to tell you that I would never have believed that I would be so lucky to have someone like you love me back when I was a roaring bad boy but also when I couldn't  even lift my arms. 

You are a woman with a strong will, Vicki and God knows you challenged me. You were worth every challenge!

How did I get so lucky to be found by you and then find what I was looking for you all my life? I loved our life together before I was sick, but I truly understood what real love is when my body disappeared, but you did not. We both know how hard it was on both of us, but you were there for me, in the blackest of times.  Your love in the worst of situations filled me with a feeling I never could have imagined.

So please know, my darling Vicki, that I will never forget you, that your love and devotion filled the universe and will come back to you. I'm not certain how or when, but there is a Harley ride in our future, where you hold me tight like there was no tomorrow  and when our love was young and strong...much stronger than I could ever imagined.

I love you, Vicki and will always be with you. You are my hero.

Virgil Darga described Gregg as a diamond in the rough and Vicki was his polish. That is true and so much more.

Yesterday was Gregg's birthday. Happy birthday to a diamond of a man, who was brightened by his courageous wife.

MORE:

• Hometown Hero: Royal Oak Letter Carrier Delivers Mail and a Helping Hand

It’s Monday, let’s go!

Gerry Boylan is the author of the short story collection. Gerry Tales and the novel, Getting There. Both are available at amazon.com and at the Yellow Door in Berkley on 12 Mile Road